Sins Of A Beast
by EnigmaticWaterfall
Summary: Humans and beasts were never meant to be one in the same but humans have a tendency to defy expectations. All the most important people in the world put on a morbid mask and become ancient animals. Unbeknownst to the common folk, their world is run by these shapeshifters. But this masked society is slowly teetering on exposure for the first time. Beast shapeshifter AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, everyone! This is the first fanfiction on this account. It is actually a collaboration between me RCris123 on Tumbr! Check her out when you get the chance!**

* * *

Water from the leaking pipe dripped onto the table rhythmically. To most, it was just a leaky pipe but it drove Jiro Yume nuts. How was he supposed to talk his way out of wearing the ol' concrete shoes if the infernal pipe wouldn't keep quiet?

"Hey, do you think you could tie a rag around that pipe? I can't think when it's dripping like that." The Yume asked, wincing as his interrogator gave him a hard glare.

The man across from Jiro sat down, folding his hands. "Cut it out Jiro. You're in deep trouble. Releasing a subject is grounds for exile, death isn't out of the question either. If I were you, I'd take this a little more seriously."

Jiro rested his elbows on the table nonchalantly. His questioning couldn't be over sooner.

"I'm taking it seriously. It's just the pipe, I don't like the dripping." He replied monotonously.

His interrogator shook his head irritably, not willing to put up with Jiro's poor excuses.

"You understand the weight of what you did, don't you?"

Much to his surprise, he got no reaction at all from Jiro, only an uncharacteristically cold glare. He waited another minute or so before Jiro's frosty expression melted. The persecuted man's lips peeled back into his usual impish grin.

"Of course sir, I understand completely what I did. Wouldn't take it back either." Jiro raked his nails hard across the wooden surface of the table,

"She was a little girl. What harm would letting her escape do?"

Now the room began to heat up. Between the two were starkly different ideas of what constituted as "right" and neither was willing to lose ground.

"She's seen too much Jiro! She knows about the Yume clan, and everything we've done. You've sent her out in the world with our secrets and you're going to pay for it!" The man declared angrily.

Jiro gave a short chortle at the man's awful temperament and certainty in Jiro's downfall. Like he'd let anyone screw with him.

"About that, I'm not paying for what I did in any capacity." He said slyly.

His interrogator grimaced at the perplexing reaction. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jiro clasped his hands together in brief amusement.

"I have 40 masks at 20 distribution points across this great city of ours. You touch one hair on my head and see how the public handles eating off of trees and walking on all fours."

The other Yume nearly sprung at his infernal clan mate but managed to restrain himself. If what he was saying was true, care needed to be taken to ensure the Yume secrecy.

"Are you mad Jiro? You'd endanger all our secrets to keep yourself out of trouble? Assuming you aren't lying, you need to consider what this means for all of us. You could life for all of the clans."

Jiro shot him a condescending look.

"Oh, I'm mad, not in the way you'd think, though. And I am very aware of what I have done. But you know, if you contact your superiors and have them waive all charges, we'll all walk away in one piece. I promise to never free another subject and we won't have 40 moropus wandering the streets and every Yumes head on the chopping block."

The other man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't believe you could do something like that." He snapped

Jiro shrugged in response. "It's a wonder what I can do being a top researcher eh? Got a lot of fun stuff at my disposal. As I said, we don't have to go through a thing. Waive my charges and it all ends here."

For a moment, only the constant dripping of the pipe could be heard.

"All the clans rely on each other. We collectively keep the masks from the public. Make the wrong choice and every clan suffers, guess who they'll turn to as the culprit? Maybe they'll even find out about our little science project."

Slowly, the man rose from his seat and reached for the phone.

"Get out of here. I have some phone calls to make. You better keep your promise or I'll find you and crush your head like a grape." He growled loudly.

Calmly, Jiro got up and bowed to his interrogator. "Thank you, sir. I hope you comply. I have 35 people on standby as we speak."

The interrogator stiffened. "Leave." He commanded.

With that Jiro left the man alone to make his calls. In the silence of the room, all he could hear was the maddening drip of the pipe.

* * *

Jiro entered his small family home, recently emptied of everyone but himself. Sadness still clung to every solitary part of the room.

The Yume's throat burned as he passed down the hall to get to his room at the end. Before he reached his own, he stopped at his brother's room. All of his possessions were as he'd left them, almost as if he were coming back anytime. Daitaro chose his tragic fate, though. Poor Daitaro couldn't handle the guilt of what he did on a daily basis. Jiro sniffed once and kept walking. Project Nocturne ruined so many lives. How could he not rescue at least one person?

It was only when he got his room that the burning in Jiro chest subsided. The man took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts before sitting in his father's sturdy old desk and harshly grabbed a piece of paper off the top of a thick stack. Using a pen, he began to scribble idea for a next move. Jiro didn't expect to get anything from his scrambled mess of words. Getting his thoughts on paper did help to clear his mind

Despite figuratively vomiting words into the page, he still couldn't think up a working plan, or anything at all for that matter. Frustrated with his lack of progress, Jiro crumpled the piece of paper up and threw it at the wall. Goddamn, his clan mates would be hot on his trail any time now and more than ever he needed to be one step ahead of them. The Yume huffed and got up to walk around his room. Before his brother's demise, the two would keep each other busy with chores. Now he was alone with no stimulation. None that he wanted, more accurately.

While restlessly pacing back and forth in his room, he caught a large object in his peripheral vision, his own mask. The torturous feeling of desolation overwhelmed the purple haired man, yet he couldn't stop inspecting it.

At one point it meant something more to him. He knew his mask as a source of power, an outlet for all his fears and his problems. The pleasures of the mask have without warning, been expelled, becoming a heavy burden and a painful reminder of his clan's desire to understand their world unconditionally.

Jiro glowered at his horse faced mask. How it mocked him for his inability to save his brother. It's frowning visage mimicked his brother terrified last moments of life.

The masks frown only seemed to deepen the more he stared in its cold white eyes. Sharply, Jiro turned from it, knees locking and heart racing. He should have helped Daitaro. Such a considerate man wasn't going to last long breaking innocent people.

Soon the burning in his chest returned with a vengeance.

He had to keep on living for his brother. There was no other choice. Jiro clenched his fists and sat back in his chair. Yes, he would keep going, no regrets, no running.

Late into the night, Jiro toiled away on a plan, something to ensure he stayed one step in ahead of his clan. What he needed to make it happen were men, living breathing people. Given his shrewd nature, not even one truth passed his lips during the questioning he was given. But they'd all have to be truths now.

Right now, his best chance to wrap the clan around his proverbial finger was the Akatsuki. Not one low life hadn't heard of the Akatsuki. They were brutes, con artists, and assassins of the worse Akatsuki were effective- very effective.

Jiro caught word of them long ago, as well as how expensive they were to hire. Money concerned Jiro least of all at the time. He wanted to put up a facade for the clans to find in his midst. That's all.

Normally he'd think of the Akatsuki as a last resort, but he was desperate for their help. The Akatsuki were his best hope, he concluded. Now he needed to find them and pay a visit.

* * *

A foul odor wafted in the air causing Jiro to scrunch his nose. Damn, he hated the southernmost edge of town. Nothing but scum lived within its crumbling walls, and on its deteriorating streets. But the Akatsuki were said to hide here, so grimy city it is.

Vagrants passed him on the streets, whispering among each other, likely about how a Yume was walking alone on the south side of town. They could go screw themselves. He was here for the Akatsuki. nothing more.

Before long, he encountered a man walking his way who caught his interest. He wasn't like the other low lives laughing at him from the crumbled sidewalk, No, he was better dressed, and held himself higher. Above all, he had fiery orange hair and a wild aura about him. Jiro could sense it, this guy had used a mask at least a few times. Using one changes a man unconditionally. So much so that another mask user could effortlessly point out another. If he was correct, only the most prestigious people of the underworld could get their grubby paws on even one. Meaning this guy was powerful in his sphere. Maybe even in the Akatsuki.

Jiro went in for the man, catching up to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. Big mistake. The man turned to him, death in his eyes. Jiro, startled by his reaction and staggered backwards.

"Sorry for the forwardness sir, I'm not the business type," Jiro said, making sure to put even more space between them.

"Who are you and what do you want?" The orange haired man growled, lessening the space between them.

The Yume drew in a large breath, he had to keep it together. "Jiro Yume, I'm here for the Akatsuki. I got a big deal for them."

Orange hair raised an eyebrow. "A deal you say?

Jiro nodded, regaining his confidence. "One they can't pass up, please mister, could you point an old, crushed soul to the gangsters?" He requested.

"And possibly not maul me while you're at it?" He added.

The man scrutinized him for a brief moment before gesturing for Jiro to follow.

Their base of operations was pretty impressive considering the location. It was a large, abandoned warehouse with scrap metal piled up to the ceiling. Periodically he'd see food scraps and bones.

Once they arrived at the heart of the warehouse, the man stopped abruptly, causing Jiro to briefly collide with him.

"Don't try anything clever. You're surrounded, Yume." He growled, Ignoring the impact.

He gestured upwards, prompting Jiro to look for himself. Six figures watched the two of them from above. He could tell they were waiting for him to make a false move.

"Akatsuki I'm gonna guess. That makes you…"

"Pein, their leader." The newly dubbed Pein told him.

"Ah, then it's nice to meet you Pein!" The man beamed, extending his hand to the wild looking man.

Pein was motionless as Jiro continued to hold his hand out before giving up on a handshake.

"Oookay, well Pein, tell me what you think of big jobs?"

"What do you have in mind?" Pein asked.

"Outwitting the Yume clan."


	2. Chapter 2

In the city, the falling spring rain was a brief glimpse into serenity that seemed lost more often than not. Konan enjoyed the rain immensely, she thought of it as nature's way of cleansing the old, the dirty, the foul. The rain was renewal, and Konan knew better than anyone of the constant need for renewal in a world which dirtied so easily.

Amber eyes trained on the deep puddles forming under the cafe' awning, Konan found herself entranced by the ripples created as raindrops impacted them. Such a beautiful yet simple feature of water. She could stay outside in the cold sipping her coffee for hours watching the rain if given the opportunity. Even with five or six people watching her from inside the cafe' she'd still prefer her water soaked seat outside in the rain over watching from a distance. Besides, she wasn't a particularly sociable woman. She dedicated a sickening amount of time to her duties as a guard. There wasn't any desire to be social anyway. Konan had a tendency not to think of a majority of people not as individuals with their agency, but as pawns in an unbelievably large game. It was inevitable that she'd view her fellow man as utilities. Konan was a Mask, naturally, she's peeked behind the curtain numerous times. All members of mask using clan do. The only difference was that Konan no longer answered to a clan.

While most Masks had birth clan they pledged their undying loyalty to, Konan was not among those that did. 20 years ago, her birth clan,the Ameyuri clan was all but wiped out with the exception of a few members who sought refuge in other clans, giving them a chance at survival. Their precious Masks were stored away by the higher up Dromaeosauridae until their clan was revived. But for now, they were divided and were either forced into a life of indentured servitude or made to assimilate into the clan that took them, in her case the Myoboku.

Luckily for her, however, the head of the Myoboku, Jiraiya was an honest and gentle man. He was unmarried and had no children of his own. He rather raised Konan as his child, taking her under his wing. Her life hadn't been restrictive, yet she could still feel a leash around her neck. She was not free like those around her were- or believed themselves to be.

Konan finished her coffee, there was no point in sticking around anymore.

She prepared to leave, pushing the burning thoughts about her life as a Mask and the secrets she kept out her mind. What an awful thing, living with the expectation of transforming into a monster placed atop you. In her peripheral vision, she caught a young girl rushing toward her with a small mask in her hand. She was dusty, unkempt in appearance, most likely a homeless child. The girl shoved the animal mask in Konan's face desperately, she trembled in place, frantically checking behind her every few seconds.

"Please lady, take the mask and break it!" The girl continued to breathlessly beg for Konan's help in destroying mask. Konan remained awestruck, trying to sort through the avalanche of words that tumbled past her teeth.

The woman took the mask, dumbfounded at how the young girl managed to get her hands on one in public, running about aimlessly, pleading with strangers to dispose of it for her. It was utterly surreal - No Mask would do such a thing.

She was no Mask.

The thought struck like lightning. She couldn't hear the downpour anymore, nor the screams of the girl clutching her fist on her skirt.

From her terrified actions, it was obvious she was being pursued, assumably by the one whose mask she stole. She was certain the mask was used for transformation, even if it looked radically different, smaller, more practical, yet the clan symbol was still present on it. The police force's insignia, in other words, Uchiha. The owner soon showed up to reclaim his mask. He was a graying man, around his late 50s, with long, once- ebony hair tied in a high ponytail.

Konan's skin crawled at the sight of the aging man, something about this man's gaze, his stature, his presence bothered her, filled her with fear, an instinctive wish to bolt. He was powerful. It made sense why the mask was so shrunken down, it was a demonstration of power for all those who recognized his threat. On his waist hung two more masks. Her throat constricted, she gulped for air, trying to wrap her head around the awful sense of dread that surrounded him. Who was this man?

"Excuse me miss, this pipsqueak stole something that belongs to me."

He was definitely pissed.

The girl was frozen in place, shaking and sniffling. She averted her misty eyes from the angry man in fear.

 _"Please, you can't be like him, you can't!"_ The girl's tired voice cracked with every syllable she uttered.

Konan paused for a long moment, looking to the man who was steadily growing more impatient by the second, and to the sniffling girl.

She then plucked the mask of the girl's hands and gave it to the man.

" **WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?"** the kid erupted in sobs, the populous on the streets stopped for a brief moment, interrupted by the sharp, desperate scream.

"The mask belongs to this man. You can't just take it like that."

" **BUT HE'S A MONSTER! THEY'RE ALL MONSTERS!"** She cried, and suddenly she became completely silent.

"…I hoped you were different. But it looks like you're a monster too."

The girl shot her a pitiful look as a last ditch effort to make Konan reconsider, but Konan was not about to undo her actions for her. The little girl bolted from the scene, crying. Everyone resumed their activity in confusion as to what they had witnessed. The man thanked Konan and left her.

The woman stood in the rain. She was left with her own set of unanswered questions, but did she honestly want to know what she just experienced?

* * *

Konan sat at her desk, finally home after a long day. She found herself hunched over a small stack of documents from her last case. Nothing interesting, just a money laundering scheme and a guilty verdict. She hated with all her heart that Masks got special judicial privileges over Blanks. A Blank murders another and gets tried, thrown in prison and if heinous enough, killed. A Mask who commits the same crime is allowed to stay in their house with all amenities taken out, and is watched endlessly of a member of her clan until the courts decide their fate- and usually set free at the same time. Sometimes, the corruption of brotherhood runs deeper than could ever be imagined. Konan's hatred for the injustice grew with her age, yet she was helpless to speak about it as she aided in its continuation. Yes, she detained beastly criminals in their homes, letting them live as they did before their arrest. She was part of the problem and she loathed herself for continuing to live as she did now.

In her hyper fixation on her thoughts, she nearly missed the loud knocking at her door. When she took note, she quickly got up from her seat and opened the door. Outside was a lanky man with matted lavender and dim eyes holding a folded black umbrella.

"Konan Ameyuri?" He asked, sounding as tired as his face suggested.

"Who's asking?" She questioned, folding her arms. He was a Yume, that much was clear, and the last thing she wanted was a Yume solicitor bothering her in the middle of her work.

He extended his hand slowly, expecting her to take it. "Haru Yume. Director of Yume security and justice"

Konan stiffened at the name, that was absolutely no way to talk to someone so important. Trying to rectify her actions, she unfurled her arms and took his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Haru nodded, shaking her hand. "The pleasure is all mine. If you do are available for a discussion. I have a job for you. Normally I would hand this job one of your superiors, but when I reached out to them, they recommended you and here I am."

If Konan hadn't been so disgusted with herself at the moment, she might have taken his words as a compliment. But today was not a day she needed praise for her work. Regardless, she took it. But in the same way, one takes a punch to the face. "Thank you." She managed to say, cursing their meeting in her head.

"May I come in?" He asked, surprisingly politely for a Yume.

"My pleasure." She said, gesturing for him to enter, which he did in a hurry as to get himself warm again.

After the two had settled on her couch, he handed her a thin stack of files.

"This is everything we have on the detainee you will be monitoring. His name is Jiro Yume."

"He's in your research sector," Konan noted, eyeing over his file. The closer she looked, the less this detainee made sense to her.

"He was arrested for alleged treason against the clan?"

Haru's eyes dulled even more looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "For reasons unknown, he sent me a message claiming he had leaked information about the clans to a Blank associate who would spread the leak. We arrested him four days ago and have been interrogating him for three days. He hasn't talked until recently."

"With all due respect, why is this is a case for me?" Konan asked, subtly trying to back out of the job.

"Today, we found out he may have help- we don't know who they are, but he assures us they have numerous masks and are willing to give all of the masks to unsuspecting Blanks unless he got off the hook. The normal punishment for treason is death. But he convinced us to waive the charges. We couldn't do that, so this is the least punishment we could give him without him making a mess."

"I see… " Konan remarked. Bitter at the notion that the only crime a Mask couldn't commit was treason.

"If I am correct, it has been a week since your last job. Would you be willing to take this assignment? You will be paid handsomely for your service."

Frustration flashed on the woman's face as she contemplated her answer. It used to be so simple, doing her job was what she was raised for, what she was expected to do for the rest of her life. For an Ameyuri the lifestyle of being a jailer to criminal Beasts was the only thing that mattered. She hated it with all her being, but it was also part of her being. On top of which, he was paying her a lot for this one. Could she really stand to reject the Head to the Yume security?

"Mr, Yume… I… accept." She uttered. Seething with herself.

The Yume smiled. "Good, You have tonight to prepare, There is no time to waist with this case. His address in his files."

Still angry with herself, Konan nodded to him.

* * *

Haru left her alone to work in the rest of her paperwork. Her head spun with the work, and the new case. She'd prepare later because this would be her last. Konan was quitting after this last case. She couldn't take it anymore, she wouldn't put up with this horrible system if she had anything to say about it. Konan already felt disgusted that she took the job, but she'd pull herself back up. She'd redeem herself yet. With her mind made up, she finished her work, and still, another thought echoed in her mind- the fate of the little girl who stole a mask from a particularly angry Mask.

The event was hours behind her, still, it replayed endlessly in her mind. She vividly recalled the pleading cries of the little girl, begging for Konan to relieve her of the accursed mask, and the stone-faced gentleman she returned it to. Konan rewound that moment with more frequency than the most. By simply handing him the mask, she put something so deadly back into the hands of one she knew deep down she couldn't trust. Yes, it was right to return stolen property, but to an untrustworthy mask user? Perhaps it would have been better to break it over her knee and deal with the consequences, The day's events were over, though, receding further and further into time. There was no use in what if's now. Whatever laid in the past was unreachable. Yet, Konan couldn't help herself but wonder.

* * *

Konan was shocked at how fast the day ended and the next one came hurtling towards her. She's prepared herself the day before, arming herself with some inconspicuous weapons and practicing what to say to the wayward Yume. In her experience, it was necessary to disclose everything to a detainee, and invaluable to use the time to get information from them.

As she approached the large house, her mind reeled. This was the detainee's house? It was well groomed, well maintained, and had a bright, friendly atmosphere about it- a feature never seen in the houses she's visited in the best. Then again, Jiro Yume was undeniably a mask user, and as a Mask, he likely wasn't hurting for money. Konan briskly walked up the long driveway and knocked off the huge doors. To her surprise, the door opened immediately as if she was expected.

Greeting her was a tall, wiry-haired man with the same unbridled eyes of an experienced Mask. He slumped his shoulders at the sight of her, assumably disappointed with having to be monitored like a small child.

The woman began to open her mouth, but not before the Yume, snickered at her.

"Listen, kid, I've told you guys before, I'm not buying from the girl scouts." He said, clearly enjoying the deadpan stare Konan was giving him.

"Jiro Yume." She began firmly.

"On behalf of Haru Yume, head of security in the Yume clan. I Konan Ameyuri will be your monitor, You may leave your house only with me as an escort and your actions will be extremely limited. In accordance with tradition, I will leave allow you possession of your mask, however using it will result in your death at the hands of your clan."

The purple haired man said nothing and stared through her.

"I can't wait." He said dryly, backing out of the doorway and gesturing Konan in.

"We'll have so much nondescript, nonviolent fun together!" Jiro chuckled.

Konan nodded, following him inside. Immediately, the light became less intense, dimming significantly with the drawn blinds. She shrugged off the feeling of sadness which hit her the moment she entered the house. It was so much different than it was outside. Konan said nothing, following Jiro into the main room and sitting down in the nearest chair. According to Haru, Jiro was a tricky man, he'd try to get into her head if given the opportunity. Luckily, she wasn't allowing it. No matter the move he would make, she'd be ready. Jiro must be punished for his misdeeds. And any plans he might have, she was going to crack them wide open.

"Yume," She spoke, watching the glint in the man's eyes as he gave his attention to her.

"I want to know immediately if have you any conspirators."

Jiro gave a coy look and crossed one leg over his other. Konan wondered distantly how long this could potentially last. By his actions, he seemed quite comfortable trying to mess with her. She wouldn't allow it to work, though. If getting him to talk was the best way to protect the stability of the clans, then she'd have him confessing everything he planned- or is planning. Konan gripped the sides of the chair, pulling herself closer the man now sinking back in his chair.

"Miss Konan, Haru should have given you full disclosure on my case. They found out I was lying about the associates-"

"If I believed you worked alone, I would have disregarded that detail of your threat to the officer. From what I've read about you, you aren't the type to make a bold claim without some form of the strategy behind it." Konan interrupted growing sick of Jiro's mannerisms and lack of cooperation.

Jiro slowly closed his eyes, a lackadaisical expression painted on his face.

"Well, you got me. I'm not alone by any stretch of the imagination. And just because you're being a good sport and not ripping my head off to get your answer, I'll tell you everything you need to know." He said, clasping his hands together.

A flash of disbelief crossed over Konan's stoic visage. What? Was he serious? The whole thing, the whole puzzle, solved just like that. He was planning this, how could he not be? Konan gritted her teeth as she sorted out a plan in her head. It had to be a trap, but it was the only lead she had. Trap or not, she'd take the bait just to be at the heart of his plan, then attack from the inside.

"Please do tell,"

The purple haired man snickered to himself, raising his intertwined fists to his mouth, covering a growing smirk.

"Akatsuki. I hired the Akatsuki to distribute masks if you guys made a wrong move."

Konan's heart skipped a beat. No, No the Akatsuki couldn't be involved with this, they couldn't. She bit her lip. This suddenly became the world more dangerous.

"Impressive, I have been trying to contact them myself for the year. How did you manage to contact them?" The blue haired woman asked evenly.

There was a short pause before Jiro automatically got up from his seat offered his hand to her. "I can show you were a met them if you want."

A game of chess, that's what this was. Both there trying to make moves on each other. Jiro offers to take her to the contact point, she'll escape with whatever information she can gather about both Jiro and the Akatsuki. It won't be easy, but she wasn't called to easy jobs.

"Thank you. My friend went missing 7 years ago and I think the Akatsuki might have some information about his whereabouts." It sounded like a transparent excuse to meet the Akatsuki face to face, and in a way it was. But she wasn't lying. The Akatsuki had to know about Yahiko, she got a letter the day he disappeared with their insignia on it. She'd never thought in a million years she'd get the opportunity to investigate further.

"Then we better get going," Jiro affirmed brightly.

* * *

Konan was led by the exuberant man into an eerie warehouse, the harsh smell of must and rotting meat assaulted her nose every step of the away. Soon they came across what looked to be a strange makeshift camp in the middle of the wear house. People were watching, she knew that much. After escorting her to the heart of the camp, Jiro suddenly vanished around a pile of scrap metal. Alarmed by her escort's disappearance, she peered around the scrap metal pile, only for an enraged man to launch himself at her. She sprung out of the way, for the first time getting a good look at him. Slicked back silver hair and purple eyes.

"You made a terrible mistake by coming here, bitch." He snarled.

Konan remained impassive, not saying anything more so to not run the risk of riling up him further. Instead her, insistence on ignoring him seemed to do the opposite. The man ran at her again, throwing punch after punch, The woman weaved in and out of his blows, trading off her own punches whenever there was a visible opening. She sent a kick to the man's head which left him staggering backward. He retaliated with shocking speed, picking up a rusted, jagged pipe and slamming it into Konan's stomach, causing her to collapse backward in pain. The man jabbed several times at her head, she found herself evading his deadly attacks one after another. He then raised the pipe over his head he brought it down on her head. In a split second, there was an unexpecting metal clang, the pipe colliding with a railroad spike Konan had grabbed inconspicuously.

She still reminded unwavering and stoic as the two tried to gain the upper hand. The man, on the other hand, was growing more intolerant of her instance on not giving in yet.

"There ain't any way in hell you can keep this up." He spat, forcing the pipe further down, straining to break her seemly unbreakable will.

"Hidan, enough. Let her go." A new voice echoed from atop a mountain of metal waste.

Hidan looked up at the man on the metal pile, and then at Konan.

"This is bullshit!" He roared.

"The one time you tell me to kill and all the sudden you take it back?" He ended his attack on Konan prematurely, cursing the new man and growling death threats to the both of them.

The man from the top of the pile began quick decent, Konan's vision was becoming blurry from the blows to the head, but she immediately identified the man who stopped the brawl.

"Y-Yahiko?"

He remained still scrutinizing the woman at his feet. Konan's heart raced as the two stared each other. Yahiko had issues the last time they'd met, in fact, their last meeting happened on a long Tuesday night where Yahiko told her about his Blank mother and Mask father- and their murder at the hands of Masks wanting to preserve their secret. They talked all night and got nowhere with their conversion. Konan, tried, she tried so hard to be the saving grace she was always told she was. But he broke further and further that night. Even after so long, his restrained sobs echoed clearly in her head.

"Pein," The man corrected.

"It's been a long time hasn't it?" He asked her dryly.

Konan gaped at the man, finding it to be the one thing she could do. Yahiko was gone- in his place, a man studded with thick, black piercings and a cold inflection. Her head spun with the weight of the past heavy on her head. She felt a dull pain radiate throughout her body, despite the aching, she heaved herself to her feet, straightening her posture. Crumbling under a load of what was didn't suit her well. A grown woman couldn't show her pain in the worst of times, she intended to stay strong at all costs.

"Seven years in fact." She said looking him up and down.

"This is how you intended to shift the political tides. Joining up with the Akatsuki?"

"Founding it actually. We've grown considerably in power since our conception." Pein told her. There was no sense of regret for the awful things he had done. He believed in his organization, he believed the underworld be his ticket to retribution. _What had Yahiko become?_

Konan looked at her feet and then back him. _"By inducing fear in everyone around you?"_ She wanted to snap.

"Why did you call your lacky off like that?" She instead asked, gaining an indigent "I ain't a lacky bitch!" from the man in question.

"I had no intentions of having you killed, even if Jiro Yume gave us the order kill his monitor. I made an exception for you."

Konan gazed at her surroundings, trying to find the rat of a man who led her here. She hadn't an idea what risk she would take coming here, but in the end, it turned out in her favor.

"Why would you side with such a man?" She questioned, rather afraid of the answer.

"Both of us have a vision of the future, which will benefit both normals humans and Masks. That is why we are collaborating"

The blue haired woman's face became hot with anger. He hadn't an idea what he was doing. He was completely blinded by his hatred. If only she could reach him…

"You've completely given up on your old ideas then?" She cried, transparent with her dislike of his actions.

"What I'm doing now is none of your concern. I told you the night we parted ways, I would do whatever I needed to do help overturn what the Masks have created and you and Nagato were to live on with each other."

Konan's fiery blood rapidly turned to ice in her veins at the mention of that name. Nagato. She and Nagato were supposed to support each other. Instead, her despair drove a wedge into their friendship. Nagato left her soon after Yahiko and Konan hadn't heard from him since.

"I… I don't know what happened to Nagato." She admitted to Pein, who raised an eyebrow.

"What you do mean?"

The woman clenched her fists, Yahiko still cared about Konan and Nagato's friendship?

"Nagato left after you did. I'm sorry, I failed to hold us together." Konan couldn't explain how she was feeling, Nagato being brought up cause a stirring in her.

"I don't even know where he is now."

Pein's expression hardened, at the news. Konan couldn't find the ability to do or say anything to justify herself or help the situation.

"…You put all your concern into me, yet you let the let your other friend walk out of your life knowing full well the kind of person he is?" Pein asked sharply.

"I was a child. I didn't know what to do. Believe me, I didn't intend to push him away." Konan's breath became ragged, as memories flooded back to her. Nagato wasn't in the best state of mind when he left. He never told her why, but she hated seeing him in that state so much.

With eyes as hard as Pein's disposition, she stared into her own. "I'll rectify my mistakes. I'm going to find Nagato."

Pein crossed his arms, not with skepticism, but with interest. "Do what you want. But the past has ended and it's not coming back. You can't make up for your misgivings and have the life you just now realized you wanted back."

The woman shook her head slowly and turned away from the two men. disregarding her detainee and her former friend.  
"Jiro. your plan backfired. I'm taking you back your house." She said, detachedly.

"Way ahead of you!" She heard Jiro's voice from behind her, she turned back to see him suddenly there.

Konan pulled a pair of handcuffs from her pocket and bound Jiro with them. "Come on." She said, pulling him away by the arm.

"See you guys later!" He chirped, his loud voice resonating in the warehouse as he and Konan left.

"Good luck not fucking things up worse!" Konan heard the man named Hidan shout. She glared at the ground as she thought about what he said. He was clueless.


End file.
